


And the Bees.

by fypical



Series: The Sabriel Week Snippets [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eggs, M/M, egg fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fypical/pseuds/fypical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a tiny voice screaming in the back of Sam's mind that he needs to stop being so freaked out because it's probably, like, incredibly insulting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Bees.

**Author's Note:**

> Egg!fic, requested by Anon on Tumblr

“An egg.”

Sam thinks he might be panicking, but Gabriel nods slowly.

“ _Kind_ of,” he says, worrying at the seam of the comforter. “More metaphysical.”

But—

“An _egg_ ,” Sam repeats, the panic rising and turning into something almost like horror. Gabriel shifts uncomfortably, and there’s a tiny voice screaming in the back of Sam’s mind that he needs to stop being so freaked out because it’s probably, like, incredibly insulting. It’s not quite getting through the panic.

“Okay,” Sam says, and takes a breath. “Okay. Explain. Small words.”

Gabriel looks at him almost gratefully, and pulls the comforter around himself a little more; Sam had walked in on him wrapped in it, asleep, and completely freaked out, because Gabriel never slept before. Now he’s got tiredly blinking eyes staring at Sam, and sleep-messed hair that Sam kind of wants to run his hands through, and he won’t let go of the damn comforter.

“It’s not an _egg_ ,” he says, a little irritably, “I’m not a fucking bird.”

Okay, maybe not so much on the grateful part.

“It’s like…shit, this is the biggest cliché in the book—like a ball of light?” Gabriel tries to explain, running a hand through his hair and messing it up more. Sam pictures Anna’s Grace swirling on the floor of the building she got it back in, and Gabriel nods, obviously having poked into Sam’s thoughts.

“Something like that but less directed,” he murmurs, shifting closer to Sam, who thinks himself very strong for not letting the still-thrumming panic make him move away.

“Don’t worry,” Gabriel adds, grinning a little bitterly, “it’ll turn into an adorable baby monster soon enough after.”

Sam blinks. He knows about the Nephilim, and Gabriel’s personal history with them – it had taken weeks to actually have a conversation about it, but Sam was tenacious – but kids aren’t inherently anything, he doesn’t think.

“Hey,” he says quietly, putting a hand on Gabriel’s cheek and pressing his forehead to the angel’s ( _his_ angel’s). “They won’t be a monster,” he murmurs, and thinks he hears Gabriel let out a breath of relief.

Then Gabriel yawns abruptly, and leans back, looking somewhat surprised at himself. Sam frowns.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, reaching out to touch again, but Gabriel sort of flops over in the sheets and makes this terribly endearing tired-slash-embarrassed noise before burying his face in a pillow.

Sam scoots down so he’s lying next to the angel, and carefully curls around him, unsure if there is some sort of protocol here. Gabriel sighs but turns over and instead buries his face in the crook of Sam’s neck.

“How did they _do it_ ,” he groans, and Sam cards a hand through his hair sympathetically (though for what he has no idea), and feels Gabriel yawn against his skin.

“Go back to sleep,” he urges, and Gabriel pulls back to look at him, blinking sleepily. Sam smiles and kisses his forehead.

“S’ok,” he says, even if he’s still kind of freaked because holy shit a _kid_ – and don’t get him wrong, Sam is so okay with the idea, but like…he hasn’t even told Gabriel he loves him yet? It’s kind of going backwards – and pushes his hand through Gabriel’s hair again.

“Talk about it—" Gabriel yawns hugely, “later. Yes?”

Sam nods, and lets the archangel drop his head to Sam’s neck again. “’Kay,” Gabriel mumbles, “sleeping now.”

Sam’s brain obviously shuts down entirely for all of ten seconds, because he blurts, “I love you,” but Gabriel just hums and drifts off, his breathing going deep and slow.

Sam lets himself close his eyes for just a moment…

When he wakes up, Gabriel still looks tired, but also unbearably smug.

“ _You_   love me,” he gloats out from the mass of pillows and blankets he seems to have snapped into existence.

“You’re _nesting_ ,” Sam mutters in response, because now _he’s_ tired too. Maybe that’s a side effect.

“Not a bird,” Gabriel reminds him, helpfully.


End file.
